


until you lose the road

by magicandlight



Series: The States [45]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Statetalia
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Bad Writing, Drug Addiction, Gen, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:02:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22286056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicandlight/pseuds/magicandlight
Summary: Withdrawal makes him shake and he can't dothis Marisol Marisol please-"You can," Marisol says firmly, and there's a thump that he recognizes as the back of her head against the door.
Relationships: Arizona & Nevada (Hetalia)
Series: The States [45]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/788712
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	until you lose the road

_Drive until you lose the road // Or break with the ones you've followed_

_-How to Save a Life, The Fray_

_1991_

Withdrawal makes him shake and he can't do _this Marisol Marisol please_ -

"You can," Marisol says firmly, and there's a thump that he recognizes as the back of her head against the door.

Nate is on the other side, curled up on the floor with his back to the door. He's itching and shaking from withdrawal and tired, _so so so tired_.

"Then sleep," Marisol says, like it's that easy.

_1957_

The first time he overdoses bad enough to lose a life, Marisol is waiting for him when he revives, knees pulled to her chest and her arms wrapped around them.

She looks like guilt made flesh, and Nate forces down the self-hatred at the realization that he had done that to her.

"This isn't your fault. I'm not your responsibility." He tells her, voice hoarse in the worst way.

Marisol just closes her eyes. 

_1981_

They're all drawn to their people. It's easy to love them and hard to hate them. Nate hasn't quite worked out how to do the latter, despite all the terrible things. 

Nate spends Friday nights on street corners watching after the girls because if he doesn't do it, no one will.

He learns all of their names and he remembers them, even through the haze of his highs.

There's a fight he gets in between and a john that he scares off with a single shove, and overall, it's sort of a calm night.

At the end of the night though, Lara, the self-proclaimed den mother of the girls working this corner, finds out that the newbie has nowhere to go. (They call the new girl Rose, but that doesn't mean it's her real name.)

And Nate says without thinking: "I've got a spare bedroom."

_1878_

In all his nightmares, Marisol dies.

After all, the nightmares would not be nightmares if he died. No, it is always Marisol, always his sister, terrified and thirteen and infection spreading so quickly even their healing factor couldn't stop it.

He stops sleeping. He stops eating. He just... _stops_.

He knocks his head against the table in the living room when he passes out.

When he wakes up, Marisol is waiting for him, dark eyes ( _like their mother's_ ) looking through him. Marisol has always seen right through him. She should be the older sibling, not him.

She looks sad. The emotion looks wrong on her face.

"I think you need a doctor," she says softly. "I'll tell Alfred to find someone."

🜛

Nate spills his hollowness out onto the floor and the psychologist nods like he understands.

When it's over, he whisper-asks Alfred if he's sure he doesn't want to commit him and Alfred's face turns to steel and he says _quite sure_ , _actually_ , and there are no words to describe the relief Nate feels.

He goes home with a prescription for opium in his hands.

_1965_

He takes LSD and has the worst trip of his life.

Nate's pretty sure his heart is about the pound out of his chest and the paranoia might actually kill him and he needs to be somewhere else but there is nowhere else-

His hand sends the phone off the hook and he scrabbles for it, shaking hands dialing a number Marisol had repeated to him over and over and over.

He dials, sliding down the wall, phone cradled in his hands like a lifeline, because it is.

"Hello?"

Nate swallows. He sounds wrecked even to his own ears. "Mari, I fucked up. I fucked up so bad."

"Nate?" She sounds more awake now. "Where are you? Are you okay?"

Nate ignores the spiders. They probably aren't real. Hopefully.

"No." Nate licks his dry lips. "Can you get me?"

_1982_

Clarity, for Nate, is that thin line between _everything_ and _nothing_ , something not quite numb but not quite feeling.

Marisol calls it peace. Nate thinks it isn't a nice enough feeling to be peace.

Clarity is being behind the controls of a plane, painfully sober, and it's also a high that manages to dull the hollowness for a while.

Clarity is still being up when Rose comes home, it's taking a risk and asking _what's your real name?_

And her grin, the edge of Spanish and _Rosalia_.

_1864_

Marisol is going to die. The infection was spreading too fast.

It's his fault.

If he hadn't joined, she wouldn't have come with him, and then she wouldn't have gotten shot-

"Nate." Marisol's hand tightens around his. "Nate. Would you- will- will you stay with me?" Her face and eyes are both fever-bright.

He squeezes her hand. "Always."

_1988_

Rosalia's gone, she's gone, she's gone gone _gone_ and everything is horrifyingly hollow. He drinks straight vodka that tastes like rubbing alcohol and cries so hard he almost chokes on it. Nate digs his nails into old scars and when the voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Marisol says _Rosalia wouldn't want you to do this_ he does it anyway because Rosalia's gone and Rosalia didn't listen to her own advice, why should he?

_1974_

There are flashes of yellow and freckles, the taste of rum and chocolate, but for the life of him, he can't remember that Halloween party.

_1989_

He doesn't visit Rosalia's grave high or drunk. 

No, Nate's the closest he ever gets to sober when he visits her grave. Sometimes he brings her guitar, the beat-up old acoustic, and plays. Sometimes his hands are shaking too much and he just sits there. 

_1862_

His joints ache from his growth spurt and he keeps tripping over himself and he just feels numb.

Nathaniel sits on the kitchen floor and leans against the cabinets, too-long legs curled to his chest, arms resting on his knees. "Mamá?"

She hums an acknowledgment.

He wants to ask if the hollow feeling ever goes away, but he doesn't know how to ask. "Nothing."

_1990_

He doesn't want to go home, back to an empty apartment with all Rosalia's stuff and no Rosalia, so he doesn't. 

It's Las Vegas. There's always a party somewhere. He doesn't have to be sober, so he isn't. 

_1991_

"I'm scared, Mari." Nate murmurs, and he's not even sure she can hear him. 

She does. "I know."

"You'll stay with me?"

Marisol shifts on the other side of the door. "Always."

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warnings for drug addiction and implied sex work (not Nate)
> 
> So this is probably really confusing to follow but here's the main takeaways:  
> -Nate was in love with a human (Rosalia) and she was sort of making him want to be sober but when she died he spiralled  
> -Nate and Marisol are ride or die siblings  
> -Nate is actually bipolar (type ii) but that isn't brought up in this because he doesn't figure that out until after he's been sober a while


End file.
